


Incandescent

by StarkRogers



Series: Snakey Good Omens [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Hemipenis, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Monsterfucking, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), Two Penises, crowley is a snake and they have sex if that's not your thing clear out, snake sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 23:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19964854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkRogers/pseuds/StarkRogers
Summary: Prompt from the Good Omens kinkmeme:Tadfield Advertiser"Crowley has been fantasizing about - definitely not dreaming, or longing for, since he's a demon and has dirty fantasies, not sappy romantic daydreams *cough* - of making love to Aziraphale under a heat lamp. (In snake form. All twisted around each other, maybe inside each other at the same time, and definitely inseparable.) Aziraphale indulges him, of course. <3"





	Incandescent

Set up in one corner of the greenhouse at Crowley’s home was a large row of heating lamps shining over a pile of blankets. They could be turned on by a switch on the ground: useful if one had two legs, very useful if one did not. Crowley, from time to time, had no legs whatsoever, and so it was a very efficient set up indeed. 

He liked to spend his afternoons there, especially in winter, basking in the warmth, surrounded by all the plants that had failed to thrive under threat of dismemberment. He would never actually dismember any of his plants, of course, so outside they went to the greenhouse, to grow as they pleased without the expectations of perfection. As a result, the greenhouse was positively overgrown by foliage, more like a jungle than a properly maintained garden. It was a quiet place, a place where Crowley could let go of the swagger and poise and just sink into a loose pile and rest, or where he could come to escape from the horror of humanity and the actions of Heaven and Hell. The heat would soak into him, reviving him while simultaneously lulling him into fantastic naps that lasted all afternoon, with wonderful daydreams… daydreams he kept to himself. Daydreams of wrapping himself around a soft, warm body, sinking inside him, filling the silence of the greenhouse with broken moans and –

And Aziraphale – wonderful, soft, warm Aziraphale – knew nothing of it. And he wouldn’t, if Crowley had his way. Crowley’s fantasies would stay safe in the greenhouse. Wanting Aziraphale was the sin Crowley regretted the least, because the angel’s company more than made up for the longing caused by his absence. It wasn’t Aziraphale who caused most of Crowley’s melancholies anyway; it was humanity itself. Humanity, whom Crowley loved with all his heart, could do the worst things to itself, often without Hell’s intervention. It hurt to watch. 

He could hold himself together well enough as long as he had Aziraphale to spend time with. The angel’s positive attitude was enough to thaw Crowley’s cynical heart even in the depths of winter and remind him that hope was real.

Problem: it was February, he hadn’t seen Aziraphale in over two months, and he’d been listening to the news far more than was healthy. He wasn’t even sure when he’d last moved from the couch, nor even what day he’d slowly turned into a pile of spiraled muscle, trying to tighten in on himself for comfort. The voices on the radio droned on, winding their way into his mind even though he was no longer actively listening, trapping him in a dark cloud of despair. He didn’t bother watering his plants, or turning on the heat, or doing much of anything. He was cold, and despondent, and couldn’t bring himself to do much about it.

In this state he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anything happening around him. He stuffed his head down into the center of his sanguine body and blocked out the world. The radio suddenly shutting off barely registered. He did notice soft warmth around him, and the sensation of being lifted off the couch. He curled up even tighter on himself, confusion slowly rousing him. He finally managed to pull his head out from the center of his coils and looked around as a wave of heat and humidity enveloped him. He was in the greenhouse somehow… a flick of his tongue tasted something familiar in the air. Groggily, he turned his head… and found himself being carried in Aziraphale’s arms.

“There you are,” Aziraphale said softly, laying Crowley down on the pile of blankets. A moment later the heat lamps came on, and Crowley’s entire body started to relax, soaking in the heat. He fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from weeks of staying awake and uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” Aziraphale said, sitting down right next to Crowley, reaching out and running his hands down the snake’s soft scales. Crowley didn’t respond, but Aziraphale knew him well enough to know the snake was asleep, not ignoring him. His breathing was slow and even, his head tucked deep between the loops of his body. “Heaven called me upstairs and I couldn’t get away. If I’d know you were having such a difficult time I would’ve tried to get away sooner. You’re cold, and I know how horrid the world has been recently, I had to watch all of it from upstairs. I can’t fix the world for you my dear, but I can warm you back up, and then perhaps between the two of us we can do something about the rest of humanity?”

Through the darkness and warmth those words reached Crowley; those and more as Aziraphale quietly spoke to him and rubbed warmth back into his scaly body. It might’ve been hours or days, Crowley couldn’t tell at first, but slowly he regained feeling in his body. He noticed little things at first, like how at some point Aziraphale had laid down with him on the blankets, and they had become entwined, Crowley’s coils draped over Aziraphale’s body, Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around him, his tail looped over and through Aziraphale’s legs. 

When he felt like he was finally in control of his body, he slowly lifted his head and rested it on Aziraphale’s knee, hoping the angel understood that all was forgiven, without question. Crowley didn’t care how long Aziraphale had been gone, nor what his reasons were; Aziraphale was here now, that’s what mattered. As Crowley roused himself Aziraphale smiled, and let the demon slither part of his long body up into his arms. He cradled Crowley’s head in his hands, stroking his cheeks. 

“Feeling better, love?”

Crowley couldn’t speak in this form, but he showed his thanks by flicking out his tongue against Aziraphale’s neck. The angel laughed and returned the gesture by scratching under Crowley’s chin. 

“Good to know. Are you well enough to return to your usual form?”

Crowley shook his head; perhaps he could if he tried, but right now he didn’t want to. He wanted this: wanted to be close and warm with Aziraphale, something he denied himself when they were both masquerading as humans. They had The Arrangement, and lunches in the park, and neither Heaven nor Hell knew what they were up to, but only because they were careful. If Crowley let himself touch Aziraphale with his hands he had the deepest knowledge that he’d be unable to stop. 

“Alright, no rush at all, pet,” Aziraphale said, and the nonplussed angel settled back down into the blankets with Crowley draped over top. Crowley tried to fall back asleep too, but he couldn’t. Aziraphale was beneath him, warm and soft and - and everything Crowley had always imagined he’d be. He slithered his body just a little, experimentally pressing against Aziraphale’s body. The angel hummed sleepily, reaching up and gently petting Crowley, half asleep, half awake. Crowley wriggled again, more insistently this time, and beneath him Aziraphale laughed (no - giggled) slightly.

“Careful, dear,” Aziraphale chuckled, shifting the thick length of Crowley’s body off his hips. Crowley froze, worried Aziraphale was actually upset by it, but the angel felt his stiffness and kept speaking. “Now now, don’t be worried about it. I’m here for you, I simply don’t wish to make this about myself.”

Crowley heard an undercurrent of something in Aziraphale’s voice that sent a jolt of hope through him. He wriggled again, slipping back into the angel’s lap and making it quite obvious that he was not being careless with his coils. Aziraphale let out a soft noise, somewhere between “oh!” and an exhale. Crowley pressed his nose against Aziraphale’s neck and writhed insistently against the angel’s hips. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale said again, this time much more pronounced. His hands wrapped around Crowley’s body, pressing him down against his groin. Aziraphale bit his lip, running his hands up and down Crowley’s scales. “Crowley,” he said softly. He couldn’t hide the fact that he’d grown hard beneath Crowley’s slithering. Crowley poked his nose against the edge of Azirapahle’s pants, and taking the cue, Aziraphale undid them. More nudging, and Aziraphale’s pants were around his knees, and Crowley laced himself between Aziraphale’s legs. He lifted his head and looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, and was stunned to find a soft smile on Aziraphale’s face, his eyes half-lidded with desire. 

“You know,” Aziraphale said, slightly breathlessly, “you could have just asked, darling.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley’s head down and kissed his cheek, rolling his hips in a way that was anything but subtle. Crowley hissed and buried his head back against Aziraphale’s neck, feeling his own body responding to the stimulation. Everything was so warm… he felt Aziraphale’s need rubbing against his own and shuddered, the sensation travelling the entire length of his body. 

“Do you want to be inside me?” Aziraphale asked gently, and before Crowley could fully process it, he felt one of his lengths sinking into blinding warmth and tightness. He coiled around Aziraphale’s leg to push himself in deeper without thinking and almost lost his mind when Aziraphale gave a delighted moan. “Don’t hold out on me now,” Aziraphale said, reaching down between them and pushing Crowley’s second length inside. “Ah - yes, darling, that’s it -” 

Pleasure bloomed in Crowley, _tight_ and _warm_ and _safe_ echoing and building inside him as they moved, locked together. Aziraphale moaned happily beneath him, rolling his hips to meet Crowley thrust for thrust, until the world around Crowley faded to a hazy white, blooming into an orgasm that wiped away all sense of time and space. 

When Crowley came back to himself, he realised he had more legs and arms than before, though his face was still pressed against Aziraphale’s neck. He kept his face there, hoping that if he didn’t move, reality wouldn’t come rushing in. 

“Mm,” Aziraphale said, ruining the silence. His warm hands reached up and rubbed Crowley’s back, which admittedly felt wonderful enough Crowley forgave him for moving. 

“Mm,” Crowley replied, deciding that movement really wasn’t necessary. 

“I see you’re all better,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley huffed against his neck.

“S’pose so,” Crowley muttered. 

“If I’d known it was this simple, I never would have let you sleep for an entire century,” Aziraphale mused. 

“Sorry ‘bout this,” Crowley said, and he felt Aziraphale shaking his head.

“Never, dear. My pleasure, in fact. Perhaps… next time -”

Crowley’s eyes shot open at the idea of there even being a next time -

“- next time, we could try it when you’ve got arms and legs?”


End file.
